Reign on the Parade
by days in daze
Summary: "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you're a bit arrogant." he mumbled, as if to mask his words in the slur and speed. I wasn't unused to hearing such things, but he was always so polite when regarding me. I didn't mind him violating that at all. "I like to talk about myself a lot," I grinned, "but so do others." He did too, a little bit, that I knew.


**Introduction**

"Who's she?" I heard one of the older students ask as I walk past them in the Great Hall, down to a seat at the middle by the aisle. It was 5:30AM, not a ringing invitation for teenagers. Breakfast had just been served when I entered, and I am nothing if not prompt.

The few that were around decided to gossip about my being…here. The gossip traveled quickly too as more students rushed in for the first breakfast of the semester, and no one was discreet about it. Gossip was not something that bothered me though. It was quite welcome as I love relishing in attention. It made me feel like such a celebrity. Surely, I was not on any of the Famous Wizard and Witches cards that came with the Chocolate Frogs, but I could be.

Speaking of, there was a little chocolate-covered cream puff just an arm's stretch away calling me to break my diet. Without company, I decided to sneak in a little sin before going off to impress my professors with my perfect scores.

Of course, the universe would have none of me being undisciplined. I was interrupted by an obnoxious clearing of throat. "You're in my seat."

The center seat belonged only to those who deserve it. The most popular, the prettiest, the richest, the most well-connected, yadda, yadda, yadda. Now that I've returned to Hogwarts in my upper year levels, it rightfully belonged to me. I was all those things and more. My charm is undeniable. It was actually a bit unfair to size up these girls against me.

No one would have guessed my hand was headed for the sweets. That manicure would only touch the plate of assorted citrus fruits. Blergh, oranges. But I was a little lady who knew what I should be seen eating. I didn't break my perfectly poised face as I turned to see the culprit. I remember her. She was my year. _Was_, yeah. Now, a year above. Much prettier than I remember, but unfortunately not pretty enough when I had met her to have me actually remember who she was.

"Interrupting one's meal is rude." I unwillingly smiled at her and her two friends before bringing a forkful of squash to my lips to bite as I feigned demureness.

She scoffed. It wasn't much, but it seemed to catch the attention of those eating around us. Some students stopped just to watch, while others got some almonds to accompany the supposed entertainment. Noticing the drop in activity, more followed. If people weren't aware of who they had in front of them, a little show would suffice. Give the gossip they're passing some medium rare, grade A meat on it.

"I don't think you heard me." A friend of her's nodded from behind her, as if telling me to just leave in submission to their queen bee.

I put my fork down and widened by awfully fake smile, "I don't think _you_ heard _me_. I said you were rude." She was, and I don't think I could let it go now.

"Do you know who I am?" she challenged.

"No," I shrugged and heard the whispers begin to fill the hall, or at least our side of the hall. "Do introduce yourself when you apologise." With that, I returned to my plate of squash and zucchini as if this conversation never happened. I just wanted to break my fast in peace among the student body full of those adoring my beauty under the rays of the sunrise peeking through the tall windows of the Great Hall, the grand return I imagined happening on my first day back.

Taking that she didn't receive my response well with a seething, sharp inhale, she let one of her friends speak for her, "You may not know who she is, but we know who you are."

"Yeah, _Rainy_." the other chipped in, sneering when she voiced my old nickname, "Don't think we've forgotten who you are just because you left Hogwarts for two years."

"You come back here acting like you still own the place but we know you're a repeater." they followed this with snickers. The whispers escalated. Others around us finally realized who I was, and now found out that I'm being put in the Fifth Year class after missing two school years instead of Sixth Year where I should be. I've reconciled with this thought over the summer. Hearing people call me daft is not the worst of anything more that could happen.

A genuine smile took the place of my previous expression, "It is so lovely that you still remember me." I respond with faux politeness, making my ex-yearmates roll their eyes, "I don't even recall your name." I stood up, taking one of the napkins to pat my lips before returning it folded to the table.

"It must not have been important. Here, my manners, pardon me." I say as I move behind the bench, still guarding my center spot. "My appetite has been ruined, having discovered that the year other students have over me doesn't seem to have covered the topic of etiquette."

I began to walk away as if the Great Hall were my runway. Sometimes, I sought out confrontation, loving the thrill winning gave me. It disappointed me to hear that I was not to be pursued. "Don't." The instigator told her friends who I imagined were furious to have been spoken to so disrespectfully for whatever spot they have on the social ladder, "She will learn her place."

* * *

R&R s'il vous plait


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